Tone Him Down
by lyo24boi
Summary: Jackson and Ethan have been together for almost a year and life in London, all in all, seems grand.
1. Tone Him Down

**| Tone Him Down |**

"It amazes me, every time you manage to get in a fight with him," Ethan said, walking side by side next to Jackson through the damp Summer night.

"Carlton's an ass. He talks shit like he's this genius that's just between jobs, 'waiting for his talent to be recognized by the mayor's office.' Fuck. Off."

Ethan couldn't help but smirk. "You should just ignore him."

"I'd rather not hang out with him at all." They rounded the corner, crossing the Westminster Bridge toward their apartment.

"But you love Cheryl," Ethan teased.

"Yes, unfortunately I do."

"Just try, in future, not to wolf out on his ass. I swear, you were two clicks away from your eyes lighting up."

"Maybe."

"We could always try and find her a boyfriend. That always breaks friends apart," Ethan grinned.

"With the company she keeps, no, I'll take my chances with Carlton-Fucking-Macdonald."

"Alright then, I don't wanna' hear it."

Jackson looked over at his boyfriend, noting his profile features. Ethan was taller, true, and he was damn sure toner underneath that jacket, but Jackson was prettier; his boyfriend's assessment for sure, one which the former alpha reminded him of all the time. _Pretty boy_. Ethan's favorite for-all-use nickname for him. Yet, Jackson didn't consider himself better looking; Ethan was just as sharp, but easier on the eyes. He had a natural and welcoming boy-next door look, where Jackson considered himself the model-next door that would tear your face off.

He pulled his eyes away from Ethan's relaxed smile and looked forward, his gaze landing on the back of the older woman's head several feet ahead of them. He reached over and linked their arms, long over the initial worry about being seen with another boy. Ethan pulled him tight and smiled at him. "Should we grab a coffee?"

Jackson thought about it, about his favorite slice of chocolate cake they served right across the street. But he also wanted Ethan tonight, and coffee and cake on a full stomach wouldn't make the night's intimacy very fun for either of them.

"I know the argument rattling around in that pretty little head of yours," Ethan spoke softly into his ear. "You want something sweet, but you also want me to rip those pants off you. It is _my turn_ after all."

Jackson's dick twitched, playing it off, though, not missing a beat. "You couldn't handle me tonight."

"That right?" Ethan said, turning to crowd Jackson up against the railing.

Jackson bumped up against it and pulled Ethan's waist tight against him by his lower back. "That is right. I'm all riled up from dinner."

"Because of Carlton, or was it when we went to the bathroom?"

Jackson's grin widened. "Oh, I think you can guess."

"Maybe I should just get you upstairs and make you squirm. Bring you down slowly. Make it a long one."

The former kanima lurched forward, forcing their lips together, bringing a hand up to the buzzed-hair on the back of Ethan's head. Like most of their kisses, it was rough. A true battle of dominance between two self-proclaimed top-dogs. Ethan put both hands on the railing, leaning his weight forward, arching Jackson's body back. He laughed into their kiss, keeping his nose bumped against Ethan's. "Alright, alright. You win, Steiner."

"I always do," Ethan said with a peck to Jackson's lips. He leaned back and tugged his shorter boyfriend with him. They reconnected with their arms, Ethan's resting over Jackson's shoulder, the latter wrapping his around Ethan's lower back.

They started walking again when the former kanima smirked. "Cake really does sound good, though," Jackson admitted. Ethan sighed, but laughed when Jackson bumped his hip with his own. "I'll abstain, though; just for you."

"Good, 'cuz I'm definitely not abstaining when we get in the door. Your ass is mine, pretty boy."

/ | * | * | \

In the late hours of Sunday morning they were still sleeping. They were stark naked, both boys on their stomachs with their bums bare-assed to the world. Their bedroom was a mess, reeking of man and axe and sweat and cum and sex. The air was heavy, hot from the sun, their closed door trapping it all in. Their sheets were torn, streaks of dried blood on the white linen where one of them had rolled onto their backs sometime after being scratched; of course those marks were long gone by now, along with every bite and bruise that had been left in so many places.

Ethan stirred first. He ran his hand over his face and back up into his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again, refocusing. He looked over at his boyfriend and smiled. His dick began to move simply by looking at him, at Jackson's peaceful face, at his sun-kissed skin, at his defined pair of mounds that guarded his cavernous treasure. The taller werewolf grinned to himself, musing how he should rouse his lover. He pushed himself up slowly, getting to his feet quietly. He walked to the foot of the bed and pulled back the sheet that rested just below Jackson's globes. He crept up onto the bed. Crawled forward. Leaned down and spread Jackson wide.

"Nnn...what're you doing?" Jackson grumbled against the pillow.

"Morning inspection," Ethan said with a grin before licking flat against his raw hole.

"Fuhhh...wow, okay."

Ethan pulled back and kissed the inner side of one of Jackson's cheeks. He nuzzled his nose at it, brushing his stubble against the softer skin. The other werewolf smiled, only to lose it in a moan when his lover dipped back in again with his tongue. His lips pushed deep, encircling Jackson's entrance as his tongue pushed at it. Parting it. Breaching it.

"Fuck, Ethan!" Jackson cried with a thrust into the bed. Ethan stilled him, holding his ass in place so he could thrust in and out. Jackson was keen to writhe, his legs squirming, his hands grasping tight at anything he could. His dick couldn't get enough friction against the soft linens to compensate for the pleasure Ethan was giving him. He was trapped. He could only pant and moan and make noises. He was forced to submit by one puckered little place.

After a minute, Ethan pulled back, his lips wet and his forehead carrying a sheen of sweat. Jackson gasped for air as he looked back, seeing Ethan's red agape lips pull into a smile. "Happy birthday, Jackson," he said before diving right back in again.

/ | * | * | \

"Please tell me you're moving out of there soon," Jackson said to the woman standing next to them.

"Soon as I start the new job, love," Cheryl said.

"Which is when, again?" Ethan asked, taking Jackson's umbrella out of the plastic protective bag and stepping forward to the restaurant door.

"September," she answered as she walked out into the raining street. "First week I believe."

"Can't come soon enough," Jackson admitted, following after her.

"You American boys just want the best of this city," she said. "Can't appreciate the grit."

"More that we'd rather not see you stabbed or shot coming out your building," Ethan corrected.

She started to make a face as Ethan drew up the umbrella, but Jackson made another right back at her. "Peckham's that bad, don't deny it. We wouldn't be escorting you to and from if it wasn't."

She shook her head, but took his arm anyway. "And you know I appreciate it, love."

"You'd better," Jackson teased. "You won't find snarkier friends than us."

"I dunno,'" she mused, "I'm sure I could pick up another couple at the club that's just as fun."

"Not at Queen's Town, Cher,'" he mused back. "We're the best of the best. Which reminds me, how exactly did you get in there."

Ethan slapped his boyfriend's back. "Be nice."

Cheryl grinned. "I'm a woman of many talents. I'd show you, but I don't think your little toy would like to watch."

"Who's little?" Ethan complained.

"He's really not," Jackson said with a smirk. She laughed and they continued on towards the tube. The ride to Denmark Hill Station took them a significant amount of time. They walked her up the stairs onto the street level and led her to her apartment building, one away from the busier main street. When they got closer, however, their evening took a dip when one young, chav-looking skin-head walked towards them, bumping hard into Ethan's shoulder as he passed by.

"Fucking poofs," the man muttered.

Ethan and Cheryl were intent on just getting her home. His boyfriend, however, wasn't. "Jackson, don't," Ethan said when the other werewolf had stopped. His face reddened and his expression twitched as he turned.

"You wanna' say that to my face!" Jackson yelled. The man turned around and stomped up to him, getting in the werewolf's face.

"I seen ya' 'round," the taller man began, his finger moving threateningly into his pocket. "Seen ya' and yer' poof boyfriend."

"Watching us, then? Like what you see?" Jackson challenged.

The man didn't offer a retort. He swung out with his pocket hand, a switchblade in his grasp. Jackson was ready for it, though, having heard the spike in the guy's heartbeat right before the swing. He dodged and thrusted his palm into the man's chest in one fluid motion. The guy stumbled backward, losing his balance enough so when Jackson punched the man's gripping arm, he fell over in the process. He was on the man instantly, knees aside his waist, his fist hammering into the man's nose.

"Jackson!"

The former kanima froze, an echo of the former alpha's voice tremoring inside him. He looked down at the bloodied man, his motions indicating that was barely conscious. Jackson stood, getting off him, looking at his own fist. He took a step back, his eyes locked on the blood coating his knuckles, bit by bit dripping off from the rain. He felt a hand at his shoulder. He turned and Ethan pulled him in for a kiss, one meant to snap him out of his trance. Warmth between the lips did the trick. He pulled back and looked into his boyfriend's concerned eyes.

"C'mon," Ethan said. "He'll be alright. Let's just go." Jackson nodded. They followed Cheryl into her apartment building before bidding her a good night. She didn't hug Jackson like normal; she was timid after that. After she climbed the stairs, the couple went out onto the street and waited for a taxi. They never spoke. Jackson was wrapped in his thoughts, about what he'd say, how he'd apologize, all despite the chemo-signals Ethan was giving off that suggested he _wasn't_ mad.

When they finally got home, Jackson went into the bathroom, his mind telling him that he wasn't hiding. He stripped out of his blazer and button down. He tore off his shoes and slacks and socks. He looked over himself. He peered at his knuckles, any trace of blood washed away by the rain, any trace of bruising diminished from his supernatural healing. It was if it hadn't happened. But Cheryl, the friend he's known since coming to London, she knew it happened. Ethan knew it happened. And he knew it happened.

He sat down on the lid of the toilet and rubbed the inch of his forehead just over his eyes. He hadn't snapped like that in a long time, not since his days as a slave to his reptilian form. He hadn't felt that surge of violence streak through his conscious mind since his fight with Scott McCall in the locker room. He had liked it then. The power. Tonight, though, the sound of Ethan's voice, the look on Cher's face, he didn't like either of those.

"Jackson?" Ethan's voice came through the door. "Jackson?" Ethan tried again when the shorter boy didn't respond. "Come on out, please. You know I'm not mad so, come on." Jackson inhaled deeply. He looked down and his hands were shaking, just as they had when he'd been trapped inside the lock-up van. "Jackson?"

The werewolf closed his eyes and exhaled. He stood and slowly opened the door. He looked right into Ethan's eyes. "I'm sorry."

But Ethan smiled at him, just as bright as it always was. "It's okay. It's really not as big a deal as you're making it out to be. With what we've been through, flattening a guy really doesn't come close to big." Jackson smiled back at him, still embarrassed in his own right. He moved passed Ethan to sit at the edge of their bed, taking note that Ethan was dressed for bed in his boxers and wife-beater. The former alpha sat right next to him, taking Jackson's hand into his. "Don't beat yourself up. The guy was an ass. An attempted killer, now that I think about it. It's an even shitter neighborhood than I thought."

"You're too easy on me," Jackson admitted, looking down at their hands and squeezing.

"I know, but I love you."

Jackson beamed at him. "I love you, too. No doubt in my mind."

"You should also know, I had to keep Aiden in check my entire life. He always got us into trouble. Always started shit. And then I met you and I'm doing the same thing. You both have a streak of asshole in you. Something must be wrong with me. I mean, we did kind of talk about this last night."

"Yeah, we did. But, you should know, _this_ asshole you can eat," Jackson said with a smirk. "And oh do you. Lord knows you're a big eater," he added seductively.

"Jackson—"

"Okay, okay. No more provoking fights, but shit, those pants were so tight on you tonight. Can we fuck already?"

"Asshole," Ethan muttered as he leaned over and took Jackson's lips to his own.

"You love it," Jackson said, pulling away.

"Shut up," Ethan breathed before thrusting Jackson onto his back. The former kanima collapsed, laughing until his boyfriend followed him down and silenced him with his lips. Jackson slid his fingers into the hair on the back of Ethan's head, gliding through the buzzed threads. Ethan shifted, clambering on top of his boyfriend and between his legs, his bulge shoving just under Jackson's. Jackson wrapped his hands around the middle of his boyfriend's back, rubbing them down to eventually grab at Ethan's blue-plaid boxer shorts, to grab at that perfect bubbly ass. The former alpha ground into him. He made the boy beneath him gasp out of their kiss. He moved to the former kanima's neck and attacked with his lips. With his tongue. With his teeth.

Jackson pulled up at Ethan's grey wife-beater, the latter arching to let the other get it completely off. He moved back to Jackson's neck, trailing down onto his chest and going for one of his pointed perky nipples. Using his teeth more than anything, he forced Jackson to cry out and squirm. The latter's hands moved back to Ethan's hair, pushing him tighter against his chest, goading Ethan into biting harder. He drew blood and Jackson jerked, his eyes whitening and refocusing as he yelled out. His dick pulsed, twitching against the still abdomen pressing against it.

"Ethan…" he panted. The alpha didn't stop his assault, though. The bud suctioned up in his lips was red, bruising from the constricting hold and the teeth that scraped at it. "Ethan, get off it, please." Ethan smirked and bit down hard, forcing blood to gush from the former breach, his fingers squeezing at the twin bud. The noise Jackson wanted to make got caught in his throat. His boxer trunks dampened at the tip of his bulge.

"You came," Ethan stated, looking up at Jackson, his lips wide, revealing his perfect teeth.

Jackson came down from his high. His breath was jagged and harsh. He opened his eyes and looked down at Ethan's bright face. "God, I love you," he breathed.

"I know."

Jackson smirked. "Get up here." Ethan slid back up his body, their sweaty chests pressing against each other. The shorter boy pulled him in, smashing their lips together, their tongues snaking around each other. The breath between them was hot. The rubbing of their skin together was slick. The chemo-signals coursing through the room were filled with lust and desire and need. "I'm gonna' fuck you," Jackson said, pulling back, their noses pressed aside each other.

"Not if I fuck you first," Ethan countered. A second paused before they started to wrestle. All grins and laughter. With muscles bulging and legs twisting. Their arms tangled. Their bodies flipped. They were both determined, so in need of the other. They got naked in the process, Ethan's boxers getting tossed up onto the lamp on the wall, Jackson's dark red boxer trunks getting lost under the sheets. Finally, they ended up right back where they stared, albeit on another part of the bed. Jackson was on his back, Ethan right on top of him. The former alpha had the other's wrists pinned to the bed. Their eyes were trapped in a stare. Their mouths were tugged wide.

"Alright then," Jackson said between jagged breaths. "Fuck me, _alpha_."

Ethan responded by flipping Jackson under him, turning the boy over onto his stomach. He kissed at the back of Jackson's neck, his hands caressing his shoulders. Jackson grabbed lightly at the sheets, his face planted in the linens, his forehead flat against the mattress. He was smiling, noting every one of his boyfriend's ministrations. Ethan pulled his lips away and licked at the spot. Then just below. And down again. And again. He licked all the way to the top of that crack.

"Not again…" Jackson breathed in desperation. "Too much."

"Just a taste," Ethan said before dipping between his cheeks.

"Fuck…Ethan, damn…unghh…"

Ethan lapped at him fast, teasing him more than anything. Jackson's pucker squelched, pushing out and tightening in uncontrollably. "God, I wanna' abuse you. This, right here. Make you come against from just your hole."

"Stop teasing and fuck me this time," Jackson growled between clenched teeth before moaning. Ethan had licked flat against him, his nose buried between his sweaty mounds. He licked at him one last time before going lower, taking Jackson's downward-trapped dick into his mouth. "Hah…yeah…" Jackson arched his back and his neck, looking straight at their headboard. Ethan pushed further, taking more of him in, lips tight around his shaft, the top of his head gliding over his tongue. The shorter boy was painfully hard, tortured too much for this to go on. But Ethan persisted, pulling back and taking him in, bobbing his lips around his lover's phallus. "Eth…c'mon, babe…" Ethan pulled back and licked at him, flattening a stripe up his shaft, over his balls, across his perineum, and over his hole. Jackson fell flat against the bed, pre-cum dribbling out of his slit.

He heard Ethan spit. Twice. Felt a hot press of skin to his entrance. Jackson barely got to look behind him when Ethan sank balls deep inside, his full weight falling onto him. "Shit! Fuck, Ethan!"

"Oh my god, I love being inside you, Jax," Ethan cooed against his ear. He nipped at it, dragging his lobe between his teeth.

"You're the devil," Jackson groaned, arching his lower back, trying to get his lover deeper. Ethan's balls were flush against his own. His back was fitted perfectly against Ethan's sculpted chest.

"You fell into this spell willingly," Ethan teased. He pulled back and snapped forward. His balls slapped at Jackson's. His hips punched at his globes.

"Nngh, fuck yeah…"

Ethan repeated the motion and Jackson popped his ass right back at him. Ethan pushed Jackson's face into the bed and they continued like this. The shorter boy met every thrust as his boyfriend hammered into him. "Never…enough…of this…" Ethan cried between pounds.

"That…all…you…got…?" Jackson challenged.

Ethan wrapped his arms around Jackson's waist, drove deep into him, and flipped them over. The former alpha laid on his back, squeezing his lover's upper body tight against him as he pounded up into him. Jackson's head fell next to Ethan's, mouth agape and moaning with every drive. Ethan smacked extra hard into him, hitting Jackson's prostate, and stilled. Jackson had cried out, eyes clamped. "Wish I could see your face," Ethan said seductively against his cheek. "I wanna' see how much of that snark I've wiped off that pretty little face of yours." Not giving the other boy a chance to respond, he continued his motions, pulling back and snapping back in.

Jackson's throbbing cock bounced with every thrust, slapping against the boy's abdomen. His moans never seemed to stop. Ethan reached down and took Jackson's member in hand, jerking him in pace with it all. The former kanima's noises began to rise in volume, the pitch turning more into a whine. Ethan slipped two of his fingers into his mouth and Jackson began to suck, moaning against them. "Come for me, Jackson," Ethan commanded, aiming at the nerves he had intentionally neglected. He drove up at them with precise aim, knowing his lover's body intimately. And Jackson reciprocated. His mouth opened, Ethan's fingers still against his tongue as he cried and whined through his orgasm. "Ethan…" he managed. His cum shot up across his torso, painting his right unabused nipple before the rest of it globbed and dribbled over Ethan's slickening appendages. His asshole tightened around the invading cock, urging Ethan to a closer release.

Jackson panted hard, but finally his high subsided enough for him to sit up. He sat down all the way on Ethan's cock, shifting so his shins were flush against the bed and up against Ethan's body. He started to ride, lifting his ass up and down and rotating the member into him. "Oh my god, Jax," Ethan panted.

Jackson sucked at two of his fingers. "I am your god," Jackson said before reaching them down forcing them into Ethan's hole.

"Wait—fuck! You assh—"

"You love it. So shut up and come for me, babe," he said, enunciating with a hard smack of his ass against Ethan's hips.

"Fuck…you…" Ethan groaned, meeting Jackson's motions. He tried to get control back, but could only barely hold onto any. Jackson fell forward, though, his hole still on fire. His free arm straightened on the bed to balance him. His head fell, his hot face allowing the sweat to drip onto the sheets. He drove his fingers deeper into Ethan, causing his lover's thrusts to become more erratic. He curled them, pushing against Ethan's prostate. "Fuck!" Jackson wiggled his fingers back and forth, catching his nails against the oversensitive flesh. It was seconds later that he felt the flooding warmth inside him. That he felt Ethan push in deep and still. That he heard him whimper and pant at Jackson's abbreviated name.

When Ethan calmed, his eyes closed and breath light, Jackson pulled off and got up. He flipped off the lights before clambering right back on the bed. He laid next to Ethan, turning on his side. He reached behind him and pulled at Ethan's hand, urging him to spoon in behind him. The former alpha complied. He curled his arm up, his hand landing on the spatter of Jackson's cum on his pec. He retrieved his hand and lapped it, smiling in delight. Ethan wrapped his leg over Jackson's, entangling his foot with the boy's. Jackson grinned and reached between them. He pushed back at Ethan's hip and dove deeper, grabbing the boy's slick erection and maneuvering it at his hole. He pushed back at him and felt it sink inside him. They both released hushed moans of delight, reigniting that sense of lust within them.

"Go to sleep. I just need you there," Jackson said.

"Mmm." Ethan tightened his hold on his boyfriend. He nuzzled against the back of his head, breathing him in. The familiar shampoo and gel and sweat in his hair. The permeating soap and musk and heat from the rest of his body. He couldn't help but push into him when a spike of want surged into his cock.

"Ngh. I love you, Ethan."

"Me, too, Jackson. Happy birthday."


	2. Let Him Do It

**| Let Him Do It |**

Ethan never liked heights. And not heights. _Heights_. Going over a bridge in the car was fine. Looking off the side of skyscrapers. Imagining jumping out of a plane. Those were not. Even Ferris wheels were difficult for him. In the past, Ethan when he had to jump off some crazy ledge while fused with his brother, he always let Aiden take full control. So now, standing on a rising carriage of the London Eye, he had to exercise a lot of self-control. By clamping his eyes shut. Gripping the rail tight. And squeezing the fuck out of Jackson's hands. There were people. Women and children and families. The metal seats were full so standing anywhere else would have been obstructing anyone's movement throughout the car.

"You can do this," Jackson said close to him.

"Why did you do this to me?" Ethan retorted through gritted teeth.

"Because the city is absolutely gorgeous from up here." He turned his head to look at his boyfriend. "Seriously, though, you'd better look at your eyes in a minute. That line was shit to stand in with that woman and her child, and those tickets cost me 60 pounds."

"You know I'm afraid of heights. And, you're rich so shut up."

"And yet you're gonna' open your eyes anyway."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I said so. And you love me."

"I do, but—"

"No buts. Look, we're about to come to the top." Jackson put his mouth right up against his ear. "If you do this for me, I'll do something for you."

Ethan shuddered as the former-kanima opened his mouth wide and breathed at his ear, his teeth grazing against the tip. "What kind of something?" Ethan said, opening his eyes and turning to look into Jackson's eyes.

Jackson grabbed him by the chin and turned his face so he had to look out. Ethan took in the view and nothing happened. His knees didn't buckle. He didn't get vertigo. He just took in the city, and it was beautiful. "See. I told you."

"You did."

"You should trust me more."

"I do."

"Uh huh…"

"I do, really."

"And yet I'm unconvinced."

"Jackson Whittemore, don't think I'm letting you turn your offer around on me. I am _not_ going to be the one that submits."

"We'll see."

"Tell me."

Jackson looked behind them and saw that a couple spaces had cleared on the other side. He took Ethan's hand and led them to fill in the gap. Ethan looked at him expectantly. Jackson rolled his eyes in turn. "Fine."

"You're such a beta bottom," Ethan remarked.

"I would say I give in because I want to make you happy, but screw you and your adorable face. I'm not telling you now."

Ethan wrapped his arms around Jackson's torso, trapping his arms in the embrace. "You're _my_ beta bottom and I love you for it."

"Definitely not."

"Jackson."

"Nope."

"Jax."

"Screw you."

"Love of my life. The prettiest boy I've ever seen."

"Alright, alright. Just don't write a sonnet, it's nauseating." Ethan smiled wide, not yet unwrapping his arms but instead moving his face closer to Jackson's. The former-kanima rolled his eyes again. "You're unbearable." Ethan double blinked his eyes at him. "And such a pestering girl."

"And yet you can't get enough of this girl's dick. What are we up to now? Twice a day?" Jackson blushed. "So where, when, how?"

"It…damn, why did I open my mouth?"

"Because it's so pretty and you can't help but want to make your alpha happy."

"You're not my alpha, Mr. Blue Eyes," Jackson retorted.

Ethan sighed. "Two omega queens alone against the world."

"Can I get off this thing now?"

"So you can get on me?" 

"Stop. Please stop. You win."

"Then where, when, and how?"

"You've always talked about…it involves a club, at night, and in the alley."

Ethan pictured it vividly in his head. He had dreamt about it one night when his lover had to stay overnight in Leicester for tryouts. He had slept alone, cold and untouched. His dream, though, kept him warm. _They were deep down the alley next to Queen's Town nightclub. Jackson's arms were straight out against the brick, his back arched and legs splayed; his jeans were just around his thighs. Ethan was behind him, hand on the boy's dip in his back, the other gripping tight into his perfect hair, holding his head up. He was pounding into him, his bitchy bisexual boyfriend just taking it like a champ_. The former alpha just shuddered again as the images returned in his mind.

"Yeah, I'm definitely making that happen. Tonight."

"You're insufferable."

"Your fault for bringing me up here."

"Your fault I love you so much."

/ | * | * | \

"You want anything?" Jackson asked after standing, looking down at his boyfriend on the couch.

"Just some water, thanks, Jax," Ethan said, wiping the sweat from his forehead again.

"You got it." He walked out of the lounge, leaving his boyfriend with Cheryl, Carlton, his fling of the week Julien, and a few other people of various genders and sexualities. He heard his name dropped as he walked away, but didn't hesitate, didn't make to let on. He walked out into the main room, the dance floor with two bars on the sides. "Two waters," Jackson said to the bartender closest to him. The twinkier man frowned. The werewolf held up the back of his hand to show him the black 'X' and made a snarky face at him.

As the bartender placed the waters on the counter and Jackson made to grab them, the latter froze. Under the current of sweat and heat and lust, something stuck out. It was off. It…stung. He knew the odor well—too well. He grabbed the drinks and hurried back into the lounge, downing his in two gulps before he even made it to the door. He spotted Ethan with the group, lips wide and laughing.

"Hey, Jackson!" Carlton called out. "Tell us about your football tryouts. The Foxes are gonna' get crushed this year."

"Ethan, we need to go," Jackson said, ignoring the heckles from their drunk human associate.

"Already?" the former alpha said, taking the water from him. He stood and leaned closer to him, "What about our deal to sneak out back? You wouldn't be trying to get out of that would you, Jax?"

"Um, sure. My stomach is upset from dinner. Can we go now?" he said, bulging his eyes.

Ethan took the cue, placing the plastic glass on the table by his leg. "Alright bitches, we're out. Jackson picked up something from dinner."

"Stay!" Cheryl cried, getting up herself.

"Can't, love," Jackson said, leaning in to embrace her. "I'll see you soon."

"They just wanna' get back ter fuck," Carlton slurred.

Ethan embraced their friend before turning to Carlton. "If you had a boyfriend as hot as him, you would, too," he said, enunciating his point with a flick of the back of his two fingers at him.

"It is a special weekend," Jackson admitted.

"And I'm proud of you for remembering," Ethan said, taking Jackson's hand as the latter led them out. "Night!" Jackson waved at them, leading them through the bodies and down the stairs and out onto the street. "You owe me when we get home."

"Don't I know it."

"What happened?"

"Nothing," he lied. "Just felt off in there."

"Carlton," Ethan muttered. "Fuckin' mood kill."

"It's not totally dead, yet," Jackson said before grabbing at Ethan's ass, his rounds so defined and showy through those form fitting jeans.

"Ah, so you are feeling alright."

"Enough to make it up to you."

/ | * | * | \

"Nngh…ah…" Jackson gasped. "Shit…" The former-kanima was on his hands and knees, his fingers digging into the bed. His head was up, his eyes numb and fuzzy as he did his best to look at the bedroom wall connect to the rest of their apartment. Ethan was behind him on his own knees, shoving into him at a hammering pace. He was gripping Jackson by his shoulders, pulling him into him with such force that the predominant sound in the room was sweaty skin slapping against sweaty skin. "Fuck…god, ugh!"

"Never enough…" Ethan gritted through his teeth. "This ass…" he said, looking down at the bubble butt, at the ripples waving through the top every time he slammed into those globes. "C'mere." The former alpha pulled Jackson up, the latter arching so his back was against the other's chest. Ethan pulled him back enough so he could devour Jackson's lips, all teeth and saliva. He wrapped one arm around the other's pecs, a hand gripping onto the pronounced muscle, while the other arm slipped down so a hand could tug at his lower abdomen, keeping his dick deep within his lover. He nipped at Jackson's lips, the latter making failed attempts to force his tongue inside his welcomed aggressor's mouth.

"Just let me—" Jackson tried, pulling away irritably before trying to reassert his tongue. In turn, though, Ethan shoved his forward first, driving deep into Jackson's mouth. "Nnnngh." Still upright, Ethan pulled his hips back and slammed forward again. "'eah…"

Ethan released him and thrust him back down to the bed, Jackson falling to his chest and face. "Who knew bi boys could be so slutty," Ethan cooed, slapping his ass. "Were you this wrecked with Lydia?"

The mention of another person's name sparked Jackson's anger. He pushed up with one hand and shoved Ethan back with the other. He clambered off the bed and tugged at Ethan's arm to come with him. "You need to shut the fuck up," Jackson warned before turning his boyfriend and shoving him face first into the small gap of wall between the bathroom and the nightstand.

"You gonna' make me—AH!"

"You're always so tight, Steiner," Jackson said against his ear, buried mostly dry inside him.

"So give me a minute," Ethan panted.

"Not a chance," the other werewolf said before pulling back and slamming back in, driving Ethan's cock hard into the wall.

"Fuck that hurt."

"Arch back, babe," Jackson urged, giving him two seconds to comply before he started pounding into him. Ethan did his best to swallow his sounds, but one particular thrust had him crying out. "Love me?" he said, knowing the spot he'd struck.

"God, yes," Ethan replied, using the wall to help steady himself as he met Jackson's thrusts.

"This dick, too?" he said, burying deep inside against his prostate and holding.

"No other," the other said, rotating his hips to get some semblance of movement.

"Good, 'cuz you're mine, Steiner." He continued to fuck him, gripping his hips tighter than before, pounding into him faster than he had.

"Jackson…hah…I'm close…"

The shorter werewolf pulled out with a sting to Ethan's entrance. "On the desk."

Ethan looked back at him. "Out there?"

"No questions," Jackson said, lightly slapping his jaw.

"Yes, sir, pretty boy," Ethan said with a grin, eliciting a frown from the other. He started walking out into the main room of their apartment, wiggling his ass as he crossed the threshold separating their bedroom.

"I'll never get over how tight those little cheeks are," Jackson said, looking at the firm mounds ahead of him.

"You should come and get them then," Ethan urged, reaching back and spreading them enough so his boyfriend could see the dark hairs around his hole.

A bead of precum pushed out of Jackson's slit as a surge of need coursed through him. He raced forward, slipping around the side of the desk to push Ethan against it, grinding their cocks together as he maneuvered their lips together. The former-alpha reached down to grab Jackson's butt, pulling them tighter, forcing the latter to stabilize himself with his arms on the desk. Jackson reached down and cupped the other's ass in his hand, squeezing it in a quasi-rhythm with their frot. Jackson's tongue was feeding into the other boy's mouth until he slipped his finger between the former-kanima's pucker. Jackson gasped at the sensation and Ethan shoved his own tongue in. He attempted to respond in kind, leaning back so he could cup the other's bum with both hands.

But Ethan had other plans, driving two of his fingers knuckle-deep, causing Jackson to tighten around them. "Do that around my dick," Ethan said before retrieving them and flipping the other around. He pushed Jackson forward before the latter could stop him. He was at the window and the former alpha pushed him through it, his waist catching just above the sill.

"Not like this," Jackson complained before the other was upon him. He ignored him, spreading the other's legs and pushing in. Jackson, more subconsciously than anything, tightened around that dick, complying one way or another.

"Just like that," Ethan moaned, grabbing at the other's hips and ass.

Jackson's thighs were tight up against the wall and the hard dig of the sill. He was forced to grab at the side and the top corner of the window as his boyfriend started to move once again. The cool, higher-elevated air breezed past their building, flowing around his dick. The heat behind him and inside him, combined with the cool front before him, Jackson wasn't going to last. He bit at his lip, trying to stifle any sound that could escape; there were still people out on the street despite the time. His erection flopped against the window sill as Ethan picked up speed, his balls slapping out every time the other boy's smacked into his own. That was what pushed Jackson over the edge. The addition of pain. It was just enough. His ass had already given up on pain, left only to greedily swallow every thrust Ethan gave him. His hands and thighs were numb from their respective grip or stance in attempt to hold him up. No, it was the only sensation left.

It ate into him as Ethan drove into the deepest reaches of his hole, on and off driving into his prostate as the latter's movements became more and more erratic. Jackson came with a whimper morphing into a cry, a four letter word topping it off. He didn't mean to come the way he did. He was thankful there wasn't anyone just below them. He did, as it were, shoot right out into the night, right down into the street. There was no controlling it. No stopping it. Ethan was everywhere. He was there during his orgasm, and he was there right after. Leaning over and wrapping his arms around Jackson's abdomen. Driving right up against his ass, halting as he came hot, white, and thick inside him. Jackson felt it. He welcomed it. He loved it.

Ethan pulled them back, his ass resting just at the top corner of the desk. He was still inside his werewolf lover, his arms still wrapped around him. Jackson leaned back as he had hoped, their mouth conjoining once again. Tonight, that's all that was needed. Fuck words. Fuck quips. Fuck worrying about what may have happened on the street level. Just them—bound together in body and in that moment.

/ | * | * | \

Jackson Whittemore walked out of the shower and into the locker room. The amateur football field had been busy that day, several local teams of various associations squeezing in exhibitions and practices. He walked over to his locker all hot and dripping, having practiced with two teams that afternoon. His friend Flynn was standing next to it, toweling off the back of his auburn hair, clad in nothing but his boxer briefs.

"It never ceases to amaze me, Jackson," Flynn began. "For an American, ya' got some quality moves. Ya' play back home?"

"Not until I got to Britain," Jackson said, dropping his towel on the bench. "Lacrosse was my game."

"Ne'er seen a natural like you. Any word from the Foxes?"

"Not yet." The werewolf finished drying himself off and slipped on his boxer-briefs. He reached in a retrieved his black dress-shirt.

"Plans tonight?"

"Anniversary. London Symphony Orchestra and dinner at the Bleeding Heart."

"Yuv' got a lucky lad," Flynn said.

"I'm the lucky one—he planned it all."

"Well enjoy, my friend. Gonna' be a terrific evenin.'"

"You, too," Jackson replied, bumping fists with his Scottish friend. He finished buttoning his shirt and proceeded to slip on his blue slacks. He slid his arms through the matching blue jacket, locked up his practice clothes in the locker, and made his way for the German specialty store. After grabbing an assortment of Ethan's favorite cakes, he made for his building. The moment he stepped inside the lobby, however, his nose stung as he breathed in; it was back. That odor.

Wolfsbane.


	3. Know Him from Lacrosse

****Author's note:** **This chapter is a crossover with my Thiam fiction "PHAS" -Chapter 5- for anyone interested.

* * *

 **| Know Him from Lacrosse |**

"I can't believe I let you fuck me on the plane," Ethan said, looking through the side of the windshield before them.

"Mile high club too beneath your standards?" Jackson teased.

"No. But the itching in my pants has gotten to a level beyond unbearable. There's dry cum all over the front _and_ the back."

"Sorry, babe," Jackson said with a little laugh. "We can stop and get you cleaned up when we get inside the city limits."

"Good. 'Cuz I'm not walking into Beacon High smelling sexed up. I'll get eaten alive in there."

"Your modesty is noted."

"Still think this is a good idea?"

"No. While I'm not keen on seeing McCall again, our options have shrunk down to two."

"Scott, or Deucalion."

"And my anniversary present is not going to be to make you see him again."

"That's why I love you."

/ | * | * | \

"I hate you for this," Ethan said, struggling to stay awake now that wolfsbane was coursing through his system from the wound in his side.

"Just stay with me. We're gonna' get outta' here," Jackson assured, still wringing at his bonds.

"Oh yeah? How's that comin?'"

"As well as the last time you asked."

"Well, while you do that, I'll just fantasize about killing the bitch who brought us here," Ethan said. "Still, lacrosse? Really?"

"She was in the school. Dressed like a teacher. How was I supposed to know?"

"You weren't," said one of the men from the far side of the room. "We're everywhere now." He walked over to him, followed by the other. "In your school. At the hospital. The sheriff's station."

"It's not really _my_ school anymore," Jackson said. "Graduated early." The one that hadn't spoken punched him in the jaw. "Agh…see, that's the problem with you people. I thought we were having a conversation."

"We don't talk to animals," the other man said.

"Do I look like a feral mammal to you?" Jackson said.

"Only if I want you to," the hunter replied, glancing at the electricity dial.

"I assume it'd be a waste of breath to appeal to reason, that we're only teenagers?" Ethan said.

"Your eyes would suggest you're more than just teenagers," the hunter retorted. "You're killers."

"Reformed killer," Ethan said. "It was more my brother's thing anyway."

"And I was being controlled at the time," Jackson added.

"And yet you just admitted to wanting to kill one of our leaders," the hunter said.

"Fantasizing," Ethan offered. "Can't convict a man of thought crime."

"Can't we?" the hunter said.

Suddenly, a boy crashed through the ceiling, landing on his feet in front of the two hunters. As he stood up straight, he thrust one of them hard in the chest, sending the man flying into the concrete on the far side of the room. The hunter next to him reacted, swinging a nearby wrench at the boy's face. Another teen, however, had been right behind the boy. He caught the wrench, broke the man's arm, and slashed a set of claws across the man's jaw. He fell to the floor, eyes open, blood hemorrhaging from the gash. The downed-man got back up to his feet, reached for a crossbow, and took aim. Just in time, however, the teen had run up along the wall, leapt, and sent the man to the same fate as his compatriot.

The boy turned to see two unfamiliar faces, both pairs of eyes looking back at them. "You part of McCall's pack?" Jackson said.

"We are," the boy said, noting Ethan's bleeding side. "I'm Liam, this is Theo," he said as the other came out of the shadows.

"I know him," Theo said, looking at Jackson. "That's Jackson Whittemore."

"The kanima?" Liam offered.

"Not of any lacrosse fame, I assume?" Ethan said with a fatigued smirk.

"Do I know you?" Jackson said, looking at Theo, the seeming-werewolf getting closer until Liam grabbed his wrist.

"Theo Raeken," the teen answered. "We were in elementary school together. Mrs. Finney's class."

"Can you do this later?" Ethan said, looking at Jackson. Liam walked over to him and undid his bounds, helping the werewolf get his balance on his feet. Theo didn't move, though, not breaking eye contact with Jackson as Liam undid the other set of bounds. "I'm Ethan."

"As in Aiden's brother?" Liam asked. The former-alpha nodded.

"I do remember you," Jackson said. "You were always pining after McCall." Theo's glare dropped and Liam looked at him. "But you disappeared, and now you're back. Helping your alpha. Touching."

"Don't be an ass," Ethan said.

"He's not my alpha," Theo said.

"And you're not a werewolf," Jackson said, looking him over. "But you are something," he said with a smirk, earning him a slap to his abs from Ethan.

Suddenly, they heard a clatter. A jingle of keys. "Let's go," Liam urged, looking at the metal door before charging it. Their fight out to the parking lot was limited, running into only three more hunters—albeit more armed. Outside, an SUV awaited, the gas running. "Go. They'll take you to see Scott." Ethan nodded and he and Jackson ran over to the black car while Liam and Theo made for the chimera's truck.

They slipped into the back, Jackson behind the driver and Ethan the passenger. Upon looking at their company, Jackson's face drained of all blood. Looking at him was Lydia Martin, her expression slipping into shock. "Ethan, Jackson," Chris Argent acknowledged, looking at them in his rearview mirror before backing out and taking off down the road.

"Glad you're still on our side," Ethan said, clutching his side and letting his head fall back.

"Uh, hi," Jackson said, looking straight into his ex-girlfriend's eyes.

"Ethan, you going to be alright?" she said, twisting to look at him.

"Dr. Deaton around?"

"He'll be at Scott's house," Argent answered.

"So, how do you know my ex?" Lydia said with disdain, looking from the former-alpha to the former-kanima and then back again.

"Just, when I tell you, hit him and not me," Ethan offered. "We ran into each other in London. I was looking for a pack. One removed from anyone Aiden and I might have pissed off. But, I quickly found out that he was all I needed," he said, turning his head and giving Jackson a fatigued smile.

Lydia's expression turned to a wincing sarcastic glare as her eyes moved back to Jackson. "Oh really?" she said. "And were you playing for the other team while you were with me or only after?"

"Uh…uh, technically I play for both teams," Jackson said, a bead of sweat coating his eyebrow.

"She had a way of whipping my brother, too," Ethan said, smirking.

"And now she knows how to fight," Argent said, looking back at them with his own smirk.

/ | * | * | \

"The hunters did this?" Ethan said, walking with Jackson's support into the McCall residence-kitchen. Glass and bits of wall still covered the floor. The wood was still stained a gnarly shade of brown where four of them had bled. The former-alpha looked up at the true alpha, eyes touched with sorrow.

"No one died. Not this time," Scott answered. "There can't be a next time, though. My mom…my dad. Mason. The hunters have stopped distinguishing between their targets."

"More like they see them as collaborators," Deaton said, picking up a tackle box from the floor and walking over to Ethan.

"So how do we stop them?" Jackson asked, releasing his boyfriend so the veterinarian could attend to him.

"We may not have to," Scott answered.

"Have either of you ever heard of an anuk-ite?" Argent said…

Jackson walked into the foyer, running his hand through his hair. "Jackson?" Scott said, coming up to him.

"Hm?"

"I'm glad you came. We…we're struggling."

"Everyone survived, though, right?" Jackson offered.

"From my pack," Scott said, looking away. "Another one's been decimated, save for the woman we think is the supernatural half of the anuk-ite. And another pack, there's only two left. They almost died and their alpha…she was the oldest alpha around. A kind woman. Stronger than most. She tried to make peace, and they murdered her in cold blood. Liam told me Beacon High has turned into a ghetto. They test people, see if they heal fast or not. Students have gone missing, and then their families follow. This time, this war, it's nothing compared to the skirmish with Gerard the last time."

"You're surprisingly strong," Jackson admitted. "Nothing like the boy I knew before."

"A lot's happened. A lot of pain. A lot of loss."

"Allison."

Scott nodded. "I hate this world as much as the hunters do, and yet I can't seem to get them to understand that I've been fighting for them this whole time."

"This town needs you, and I say that in all seriousness. From what Ethan's told me about the darach, and Deucalion, and the dark kitsune…the fact that you're still standing, that you're still fighting…I never could have done it."

Scott shrugged. "It has to end somehow." Jackson didn't reply, only looked away, too. "You, uh, you and Ethan can use the shower in my room. Get cleaned up. Just, keep the light off in the bedroom. They can't know we're here." Jackson nodded. He made to collect his boyfriend when Scott pulled him into a hug. "Thank you for being here." Jackson blushed a little, but nodded when they pulled back. He hurried over to the onlooking werewolf, Ethan's eyebrow raised.

"Let's get cleaned up," Jackson said, holding out his hand…

Ethan closed Scott's door behind them. "What was that about?" the former-alpha said.

"He's different than I remember," Jackson offered.

"An alpha worth following?"

"Something like that." Jackson walked over to the blinds and closed them. "If I ever wanted one, that is."

"Nothing else?"

"What do you mean?"

"I think Theo's not the only one pining after Scott," Ethan said with a grin.

"You're crazy. McCall?"

"I can smell it from here." He walked up to his boyfriend and grabbed his crotch. "Just his smell turned you on, didn't it? You've always had a thing for scents, and his is overwhelming in here. It's making you hard."

"I—"

"It's okay. I'd let him join if he were ever up for it," the taller boy said before pushing Jackson back onto the bed. Scott's bed.

"Ethan, we—"

"Shh," Ethan cooed. "Just breathe him in. Let me do the rest." Ethan twisted at Jackson's knees, urging him to turn over. His boyfriend complied and soon his pants were being dragged down. Time seemed to skip in Jackson's mind when he took in the first breath. Scott's smell was intoxicating. It made everything fuzzy. It made him zone out when Ethan tongued his hole. It made him miss the initial pain when his boyfriend pushed inside him. It almost made him miss Ethan's use of his nickname. 'Pretty something,' was how it almost registered. It was only when Jackson heard the squishing sound and his prostate ignited that he snapped out of some of it. "There he is. Yeah, I definitely need to convince Scott," Ethan said before wrapping a hand over Jackson's mouth and snapping back in. "Those brown eyes. Crooked smile. Caramel skin. That sheer power. Jackson," Ethan panted, feeling the pressure in his own body at just the thought, "he'd dominate you so good."

Jackson nodded, whining into Ethan's hand as he came.


	4. Take Him Away

**| Take Him Away |**

Ethan stepped out into their bedroom, towel drying the back of his buzzed hair, his dick swinging back and forth in full view. Jackson smiled at him when he looked over, the shorter werewolf digging around inside their drawers. "The war's over, Gerard is dead, the apartment's _finally_ picked up, and I'm clean down to every crevice."

"You mean wrinkle," Jackson quipped. Ethan rolled up the towel and snapped it at his boyfriend's ass. "Ow, shit. Okay."

"Asshole," the former-alpha muttered, returning the linen to his wet chest. Ethan looked him over, grazing over his defined-hairy legs and that boxer-trunks-clad ass and his toned back muscles. He walked over to him, still hot and damp from the shower, and wrapped his arms around his abdomen. He kissed Jackson's neck before resting his chin on the other's shoulder. His eyes carried down to his boyfriend's hands, watching them move quite gracefully. "What're you doing?"

"Figuring out what to pack," Jackson said.

"Pack?"

"The war isn't over, and while Gerard is dead, Monroe is not. We're going to France in the morning, to see who can fight when she makes her next move."

"France? Really?"

"Yes, really. You saw the map."

"I know but...can't we just take a day? We just got home."

Jackson grinned. "I also booked us a night in Paris, with reservations at _Astrance_."

"You didn't," Ethan said, pulling back, a wide smile yanking at his lips and his eyes widening like a small child.

Jackson turned around and leaned back against the top of the cabinet. "I did. And while I'd love to say it was to get you to quit your bitching, I just can't resist that stupid smile of yours." He held his snarky expression for as long as he could before breaking out into a stupid smile of his own.

"You, Mr. Whittemore, are amazing," Ethan said, stepping up to him and placing his hands on his waist to kiss him.

"I love you, and I just...our anniversary got fucked up and you almost…"

"I didn't. You didn't. We made it, and we're gonna' continue making it." Ethan kissed his cheek softly. "At least until our second," he added with a grin.

Jackson laughed. "Yeah, until our second."

"So, should I get the suitcase out? Again? Even though I just put it away?"

"Yeah. You should. 'Cuz, y'know, France."

"Mm, France. Okay." Ethan playfully slapped Jackson's jaw and headed out into the common room.

/ | * | * | \

"Maybe...ngh...maybe we...should make a list…" Ethan gripped the metal balcony rail and the white door frame even harder.

"A list...of what…?" Jackson forced, slapping his hips against his boyfriend's ass.

"A fuck-it list...every capital...looking at a major landmark...two down…"

Jackson smirked. "Deal," he said, adding in a harsher snap.

"Shit!"

"Does being here turn you on?" Jackson said, exchanging his thrusts for rolling his hips and grinding against the deepest parts of him. "Seeing that giant, metal, phallic statue?"

"Shut...up...nngh…"

"The French air make you hot? Or maybe the hot daddy we passed by in the lobby."

"Just you...you turn me on...ah...'cuz of that…"

"Only that?"

Ethan shook his head.

"Then what?"

"Jackson, please...keep moving…"

"I am moving," the former-kanima said, smirking against his boyfriend's ear.

"Not...hard enough…"

"Ahh...you want _this_ ," he said before pulling out and slamming back in. Ethan lost his grip on the frame when his vision fuzzed over. Jackson slipped a hand between them, grabbing the rail to stabilize them. He pressed his chest against Ethan's back, wrapping a hand around his waist, and fucked into him. Ethan moaned, not caring about the people on the street seven levels down. "Yeah...you do."

"Jacks—Jackson...fuck...I'm gonna'...don't st—...just...inside me…"

"Hnngh...anything...for you…"

/ | * | * | \

"I still don't get why don't like it," Jackson said, a mostly sipped espresso in front of him and a half-finished cappuccino in front of Ethan.

"It's a tail, Jackson," Ethan hushed.

"But it's _my_ tail," Jackson said, mirroring the other's volume. "So you should like it."

"It's reptilian."

"So if it was furry, like a wolf's, then…?"

Ethan blushed. "No. Still not."

"You might be the listener during our interrogations, but I have super-hearing, too."

"Shut up and drink your sludge."

"We should try it sometime," Jackson said, taking a sip and grinning. "You might like a third limb involved. I can... _do things_ with it."

Ethan looked away, shuffling in his seat. "Please...just stop. Now."

Jackson's grin widened. "Well, what about you? Anything you wanna' try while we're here?"

Ethan looked back at him. "No, although I did have a dream on the flight over."

"What kind of dream?" Jackson said eagerly, leaning in.

The former-alpha took a sip of his cappuccino, letting Jackson swipe the foam on his upper lip away with his thumb. The shorter boy sucked on it, eliciting a grin and a shake of his head from Ethan. "You…" Ethan took another sip, licked at the foam, and sat back in his chair. "When we were still in Beacon Hills, I was trying to figure out how to make Scott an anniversary present for you."

"Ethan, you're not still—"

"So, the obvious answer would be to include Malia," Ethan said matter-of-factly.

Jackson brought his hand up and smacked it into his forehead. "A threeway? With Scott and his girlfriend? Really?"

"Well, a fourway." Jackson looked up at him. "You don't honestly think I'd pass up a chance to get in on having you _and_ Scott in the same bed, do you?"

"I guess not...but, even with Malia?"

"My dream made everything very clear as to who would be where." Jackson reddened. "You can fuck Malia, Scott can fuck you, and I can fuck Scott," he offered simply, popping a devilish grin. Jackson took his chance to squirm and readjust in his chair. He looked down at the last bit of his espresso. He couldn't seem to find the ability to look back up and Ethan took great pleasure in watching him silently play out whatever inner monologue was going on.

"Gentlemen," their waiter said, stepping up to their table. "I hope everything was to your utmost satisfaction."

"The entire meal was exquisite," Ethan said, smiling at the middle-aged man.

"I shall pass on your compliments. The chef, too, would like to wish you a _joyeux anniversaire_ , a happy anniversary, and to please enjoy our beautiful city."

"Yes, please give her our best. And thank you, Olivier, for taking great care of us." The man nodded, slipped their bill onto the table, and walked off to attend to other duties. "Alright money-bucks, you're up." Jackson looked up at him and frowned. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

"Good. You know I hate that name."

"I could always make it up to you," Ethan said, leaning in with a grin.

"Before _and_ after dinner?" Jackson said, flipping open the check folder.

"After dinner. On the train tomorrow. The second hotel. The flight back."

"You're insatiable."

"We make an excellent tea set."

Jackson rolled his eyes. "So you know, there is no second hotel. We're staying at a bed and breakfast."

"Oh."

"And we won't have time in Toulouse. We have work to do. And we won't be alone for much of it."

"You expect to find people the first day?" Ethan offered.

"Probably. We're meeting with Scott and Argent's contact. He's supposed to be coming over from Mende."

"A contact? Who are you…?" But it dawned on Ethan when Jackson finished signing the bill and looked up with a smirk. "We're meeting Isaac Lahey in Toulouse?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Because we can trust him. He's still part of Scott's pack. And he's also one of the best trackers in the world now." Jackson paused, watching Ethan's disdain play out on his face. "And I owe him an apology."

"Do you now? You might owe me one, too, if you don't make this up to me."

"Won't be making that mistake," Jackson said, winking at him. He slid his hand out towards the middle of the table. "Happy anniversary, babe."


End file.
